


of witch there is nothing else to say

by shadhahvar



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Healing, High Fantasy, Injury, Kappa, Kitsune, Medicine
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-10-02 01:27:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17255039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadhahvar/pseuds/shadhahvar
Summary: Victor Nikiforov is a city-bred witch heading out to Japan in search of an ingredient he needs that can only be found in Japan. What happens next may surprise you!Please vote at the end of each chapter to decide the direction of the story!





	1. we begin with a morning

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fun little experiment I'm running which involves writing a story in short segments, then asking for readers to vote on an option to decide what comes next! Let's see what kind of nonsense we can end up putting together with each other's help!
> 
> Tags will be updated as story events are discovered along the way.

He stepped out into the early morning sunlight, the brush of warmth against his skin a stark contrast to the brisk bite of the spring air. Victor adjusted his satchel and turned his face toward the sun with his eyes closed. The hum of the city around him was a steady pulse of activity, the rumbling of engines and far off blaring of horns and backfiring mufflers all familiar. He knew the shape of things before he opened his eyes to find the cars streaming past in fits and bursts, people spilling onto the sidewalks, everything moving, throwing his stillness into sharp relief.

At his side, a brown poodle shook off, rattling the metal rings of her harness. _Assistance Animal—Do Not Pet_ was stenciled out in three languages, Cyrillic the most prominent. Victor smiled, adjusting his hold on the bar extending off her harness, and pushed his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose. People made assumptions based on how they presented themselves, and he welcomed the assumptions. They were hardly more unlikely than the truth.

“Do you remember where we’re headed, Makkachin?”

The poodle wuffed, thwapping the side of his leg with her tail. He chuckled, inclining his head forward, and the two of them walked down the street, Victor’s expression sliding into thoughtful neutrality. He was set to collect samples from Japan today, which would require a decent amount of his magic to make the trip both there and back, let alone to do so without alerting everything in the region where he arrived. Better to conserve energy when and where he could.

Nature called to nature, and cultivated or not, the transition would be smoother from any of the larger parks in the city than it would be from the alleyways. They wound through the streets while Victor went over his mental inventory list, and what he most hoped to find; the largest shot in the dark would depend on waterways and chance timing. He patted the metal water bottle slipped into his satchel side pocket and nodded to himself. It’d been increasingly difficult to trade goods with witches working outside of the country, largely because most of them insisted on using non-magical means of transportation, and most truly useful ingredients went disappearing at customs and never seemed to make it over the border.

Modern convenience did not, in all cases, mean less hassle. There had to be someone working in customs who sniffed out charms encouraging expedient processing, because each and every attempt made using those in the last ten years had resulted in no success, and that was statistically impossible. Not improbable, genuinely _impossible_.

At least some of them should have made it through. 

He sighed, letting Makkachin choose their way along the groomed paths of the park they’d reached, pulling on his magic and feeling for potentials in the area around them. In most places touched by nature there were folds in the landscape, shimmerings in the air between two trees, suggestions of deeper shadows underneath a bush, a glimmer in a ripple off the surface of a pond which pointed toward the potential for a doorway, a means of moving between one place and another without traveling all the distance inbetween. Victor was gifted in finding such potentials and opening such doorways, which hadn’t always been to his credit, but often enough was to his benefit regardless. He was looking for one of those potentials that day as he and Makkachin strolled along.

He saw it shimmering like the thin surface of a bubble stretching between two trees. He clucked his tongue to Makkachin and she turned her head, ears perking up and forward, alert for the same sign. She gave him one bark in recognition before leading him closer, for all the world a dutiful service animal guiding her owner along over a grassy knoll.

The two trees grew on the far side of the knoll, the potential doorway filling as he came closer. By the time he rested a hand on one of the two tree trunks, the magic was so thick, he could taste it, heavy and earthen, on his tongue. Makkachin leaned against his leg, and Victor rested his other hand on the top of her head, murmuring a reassurance.

Then his mind was on the doorway he wanted to form and nothing else. His fingers pressed hard against the bark of the tree, his feet spreading shoulder width apart so he was steady and well grounded. _Take me to Japan_ , he told the magic, sang to it with his heart’s music, _to the rivers where the magic I seek dwells strong._

The doorway came into being as his song echoed through the magic, giving it form and structure, assigning it purpose. He kept his eyes closed against the bright flares of surging light the magic gave off in his vision, until it subsided again, going dark. When he opened his eyes, a doorway stood red before him, no door on its hinges; simply the frame through which he glimpsed the shadows of another wood, less cultivated than the one of the park he stood in now.

“Well then,” he said, dropping his hand back to the handle on Makkachin’s harness. “Shall we?”

Makkachin wagged her tail, starting forward and leading Victor over the threshold. Side by side, they stepped through into another part of their world.

They stepped into a forest filled with the softening light of the afternoon, shadows stretching long around them, promising the night which would be following in several hours time. Victor heard water babbling in the distance, but he didn’t move toward it at first, instead opting to hold still and look around them both to fix the location in his mind’s eye. Keeping this doorway open would be easier than crafting another one to return home.

“Makkachin, stay.”

She whined, looking up at him with concern written in the furrow of her furry brow, but his unblinking look had her haunches sinking steadily toward the ground. Once she sat, his features softened, and Victor crouched down to run his fingers through the fur of her cheeks.

“I know, I promise I won’t be long, but I need you to guard the doorway. You’ll do that for me, right? Make sure that it doesn’t leave, and that no one goes through it except for you and me.”

Makkachin whined, ears drooping, before she sighed and straightened up, giving him a firm bark. He patted her head and stood again, pushing his sunglasses up on to the crown of his head. No need to dull auras when he wasn’t in the middle of the city. Out here, he needed every advantage he could get.

He walked toward the sound of running water, pulling out an empty, sterile container and loosening the lid. He wanted to be ready, just in case he ran across what he was looking for, but he also wasn’t sure what to expect. Kappa had a slew of at times contradictory behaviours attributed to them, but everything agreed on their predatory nature. Relaxing his guard would be ill advised.

He scanned for signs of life and passed over all the smaller flickers indicating fish and birds and small mammals, his eyes catching on a deeper green clustered by the shore. He moved closer on quiet feet. That deeper green belonged to a creature of decent size, maybe large enough to be a kappa. He wasn’t sure.

Stepping beyond the line of bushes growing by the stream, Victor came face to face with a child-sized, green skinned creature, who stared back at him with large, black eyes. Water weeds draped off its shoulders and clung to its waist, dripping wet, and the strange concave shape of its skull held water too, a natural storage basin. It lifted its webbed fingers, reaching for Victor, the narrow shape of its mouth framed by catfish like whiskers revealing a smooth, unbroken ridge of teeth as it drew lips back in a feral snarl.

Against every instinct in him, Victor did not defend himself. Instead, he bowed.

The snarl cut off, the kappa regarding Victor for a split second before it started to bow in turn, caught up in a formality its species held onto in spite of its danger to their health. Water started to cascade out of the depression on top of its head, and Victor swallowed, holding out his container to catch what he could while remaining in a bow. The kappa wouldn’t straighten first, and the water soon went from a steady cascade to a dribble, the kappa wheezing and gasping. It collapsed to the ground, clawed hand scraping at where the last of its water bled into the rocky shore, shifting stones but capturing none of its sustenance.

Quickly, Victor capped his container, screwing the top down and shoving it into his satchel. He pulled his water bottle free, unscrewing the top and sinking to his knees by the gasping kappa. It lashed out at him, talons raking over Victor’s thigh and drawing blood, but only at a superficial level. 

The creature’s great black eyes were filming over as Victor hauled it back up, forcing it to sit as he upended his water bottle over its head. He braced the creature against his side, gritting his teeth when the weak scrabbling of the kappa’s clawed hands against his arm once again drew blood, before the kappa stilled itself. Gasping breaths turned into easier ones, the panicked beating of its heart slowing down until it slumped against Victor, carefully keeping its head lifted to allow no water out of the basin in its skull.

The creature spoke then, something Victor couldn’t understand, whether it was in Japanese or the kappa’s own private language, he didn’t know. 

“Unpleasant business all around,” he said in English, forcing his voice to be cheerful, “But neither one of us ended up the worse for the wear. Let’s call that a day and both be on our separate ways, yes?”

He lifted his arm away, and the kappa went still again before carefully standing, then bursting into a headlong sprint for the river. It dove in, barely a ripple on the surface of the water, then was lost to human eyes. Victor could still see it lurking under the surface, the deep green of its aura shot through with a spring green now from the renewal of the water in its head basin. It swam further away, in the moment not looking to try and face Victor.

All the better as far as he was concerned.

He sighed, standing up with a wince and taking stock of his injuries. As he prodded at the tears through his pants into the flesh beneath, he grit his teeth, cataloguing the extent of the lacerations. Nothing deep, and nothing harming the muscle below, but he wanted to flush and treat them before heading back. The less notice he attracted for the wrong reasons, the better.

Decision made, Victor reached for his belt, intent on stripping down one layer to dress his wounds. As he unlatched his buckle, a startled cry sounded out behind him, followed by a loud, dull thud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~Comment with your vote for one of the following by the end of January 3rd, 2019:~~
> 
>   * ~~Cat~~
>   * ~~Badger~~
>   * ~~Fox~~
>   * ~~Raccoon Dog~~
> 

> 
> ~~~~Thank you for your votes!


	2. meeting the batman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor meets a fox who calls himself Batman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The votes have been tallied! Fox won with eight votes, followed by raccoon dog, then badger. Thank you so much for voting!
> 
> Now, let's see what the fox says.

Victor spun around, one hand holding his belt buckle, the other reaching into the front of his satchel for whatever he encountered first. His attack arsenal had less to do with injury and more to do with inconvenience, but it was useless either way if he couldn’t access it quickly enough.

At first he saw a younger person of indeterminate sex lying on the ground, but as he blinked, the young person resolved into a young red fox. The fox squirmed and rolled over, springing back up to its legs and shaking off. It cast a nonchalant glance at Victor before proceeding to sit and itch behind an ear with its hind paw. In no way was it subtly not staring at him still, and even if Victor couldn’t read the bright red and softer bronze in the fox’s aura, everything else about how it behaved would mark it as something different than a standard forest fox.

He also suspected foxes did not look furtively at strange humans passing through their territory from the corner of their eye, let alone seek to stay after attracting a stranger’s attention.

With his hand still in his satchel, Victor summoned up a smile, calling out to the fox in a clear, almost sing-song voice. He stuck to English, figuring it was highly unlikely Russian was going to be understood here in Japan, and English was pervasive enough that it could be recognised, if not known.

“Ah, is there something I’ve done to offend you? What a strange person who makes themselves a fox instead of making an introduction.”

Strange was often enough synonymous with dangerous, and Victor let that knowledge show in his posture and the hard gaze he leveled on the fox. The fox froze, hindleg lifted for another scratch, nearest ear swiveled around to focus on Victor’s voice.

“I feel like we can both agree it’d serve far better to make peace instead of seek out a fight neither one of us intended.” He tipped his head toward the hand in his satchel, which clutched at a bundled sachet he hoped contained something useful for beating a swift retreat. Foxes, or at least the foxes who were not _proper_ foxes, were individuals of decent power in Japan. All the stories he knew indicated as much, along with them having two distinctly different tendencies, one more mischievous, one more helpful. Both were capable of killing. Both were, presumably, territorial.

His fox ducked its head and slowly lowered its hindleg. Its mouth opened, tongue lolling out as its ears splayed out to the side, the overall impression one of contrite apology and acknowledgement. The fox dipped its head into a proper bow, then straightened up in a flurry of red, once more resolving into a person.

A young person who blinked at Victor with vivid green eyes, their shock of blond hair and the bright crimson lock in their bangs earning a mild raising of his eyebrow. For all intents and purposes, this young fox clearly _dyed_ their hair, or wanted to be taken as a human who did as much. Victor wasn’t certain to what degree their illusions were malleable, or if in transforming, kitsune took the same form each time. All accounts on the subject were rather contradictory. That was half the enjoyable surprise.

“I apologise, _Ningen-san_! It’s not our custom to give our names to strangers.” Odd as it was, the kitsune looked sincerely apologetic as they straightened, their hands disappearing into their diaphanous sleeves. Or his sleeves. Now that the kitsune was speaking, Victor was inclined to believe they might be male. Standing there in his dark blue and silver robes, his feet clearly bare, it had less to do with form and more to do with a guess at the kitsune’s age and the pitch of his voice.

“No, no, that’s understandable. If our names are secrets to be held, we can choose another, can’t we? So what should I call you, my friend Fox?” He kept his hands where they were, allowing himself to smile, watching as the kitsune watched him in turn.

The look of sheepish uncertainty left the kitsune’s eyes at the suggestion. “Yes! Like code-names!” He clapped his hands together, one sharp canine catching his lower lip as he grinned. “You can call me… _Batman_.”

Victor bit down hard on his tongue to avoid a bark of laughter, one that no doubt would injure the young “Batman’s” pride. He was in a fine mood now, and if he wanted to be called by comic book character names, Victor had no reason to argue. “Batman,” he said after a moment, inclining his head toward Batman. “You can call me Ivan. Ivan _-durak_ , if you like.”

Batman nodded, clenching his fists, eyes sparkling. “Nice to meet you, Ivan- _dur...dul…_ Ivan!” Some words were more of a tangle for foreign tongues than either, and Victor was just thankful they shared English. Batman let his hands drop back down to his sides, looking from Victor to the river, biting down on his lower lip. “Now that we’ve been introduced, can I ask what you were doing? I saw you help the kappa, but then you were…”

The kitsune’s eyes dropped down to Victor’s undone belt, and then quickly looked away. He didn’t seem to like holding eye contact or staring, either a cultural value or a sign of Batman’s personality.

“Stepping out of my pants?” Victor finished helpfully. The kitsune nodded his head vigorously, his hands disappearing into his sleeves once more.

“Yes! That! So, why?”

He breathed in, trying not to linger over the fact he was talking to a teenage appearing kitsune about stripping down to address the kappa-caused lacerations on his leg. “To treat my injuries. The kappa was understandably not enthused about my attempt to help it with its water problem.” Because he’d caused the water shortage in the first place, but if Batman wasn’t bringing it up, Victor didn’t see a need to bring it up either. He finally pulled his hand out of his satchel, gesturing to the drying, sticky, torn mess of material over his injured thigh. “They left me with a few scratches to tend.”

If anything, the understanding _oh_ of Batman’s lips and the way his eyes widened was almost comical. His mein turned serious in a moment, Batman making an odd scooping gesture at Victor. For the first time, a white tipped tail lashed behind him, catching his attention out of the corner of his eye. “Oh dear, that’s no good. You have to come with me, Ivan. My Lord’s onsen is nearby, we can see to your injuries there.”

Wariness mixed with surprise. Victor’s first thought wasn’t even for himself, but instead for Makkachin. How much longer would he keep her waiting? He couldn’t afford a long trek away, not when she was dutifully waiting by the gateway. “I don’t know,” he said, seeing Batman’s expression firm in an oddly familiar focused, stubborn way.

“My Lord’s family wouldn’t hear of allowing a traveler to pass through their realm without showing them proper hospitality. Which means we don’t let people wander around injured!”

Or probably let people wander around at all, since Victor managed to show up uninvited in a _realm_ of some sort. He had no idea how kitsune divided up territories, or in what respect to human stakes on similar lands, but he’d landed himself in the middle of _someone’s_ territory.

“Your Lord’s family sounds like a kind one. Are they… like you?” He redid his belt, stalling for time.

“Huh? Oh, you mean kitsune?” Batman nodded, repeating his scooping gesture with an impatient shifting of weight from foot to foot. “Yes, and they’re the most magnificent in the realm! One day I hope to be as great as my Lord!”

“May you see that day,” Victor said, adjusting the strap of his satchel. There was an element of hero worship in Batman’s voice that was difficult to miss when he spoke of his Lord. “Just how far away is this onsen you mentioned?”

“Ten minutes or so away along the path,” Batman said. By now he was practically vibrating with restrained energy. “Longer the longer we’re not moving. Oh!” He paused, dancing closer and crouching down to peer at Victor’s leg from a meter away. “Are you going to be able to make it? I could probably carry you…” Batman looked Victor over from foot to head. “... I could probably fetch my Lord to carry you! He’s very strong!”

Victor found himself smiling in spite of the resignation he felt at heart. “I think I’ll be able to make it on my own, Batman, but I thank you for the generous offer.” Of his Lord’s services, which might not be as freely given for an intruder as Batman seemed to believe. Victor knew he’d be finding out shortly as he took a step forward, wincing at the pull of drying blood against the injuries on his leg. 

Batman saw him wince, wincing sympathetically. He came closer, offering his shoulders for leaning on, and with no apparent concern for the stranger named Ivan, slung an arm around Victor’s waist. “Ivan, we’ll get you all fixed up. My Lord is really good at doing that,” he said with absolute conviction.

He smiled, partly for Batman’s benefit (what in the world was this kitsune actually called? Batman didn’t suit him in the slightest, from Victor’s admittedly limited understanding of Batman), partly because it was difficult not to smile in the face of such earnestness. He accepted Batman’s freely offered help, even if he would have preferred him on the uninjured side. Easier to crutch that way. 

“Oh? Your Lord works with healing? In a scientific or a magical sense?”

“Both,” Batman said without hesitation, “Though he shines best with his magic and herbal sense. There’s _nothing_ he can’t make. Nothing in the world. … Unless you want it to be edible,” he amended after a moment, his tail drooping at the admission. “Then he can make only about half of everything.”

The walk proved mostly one sided in conversation, and Victor’s walking became easier as the material of his trousers pulled away from his injury, not allowed to settle again. The ache was dull more than it was sharp, and he didn’t need to concentrate on anything more than the babble of Batman’s voice and the landscape they were moving through. Victor paid close attention, knowing he’d need to make his way back to Makkachin before too much more time passed.

He knew they’d arrived not for any announcement, per say, but from the sudden lurch of Batman pulling away and running ahead of Victor, breaking past the last of the trees.

“Katsuki-sama! Katsuki-sama! I brought someone!”

Victor lifted a hand to shade his eyes as he limped to the edge of the forest and took a step out into the blinding light of the courtyard that lay beyond. Katsuki-sama seemed to be the Lord that Batman was talking about.

It looked like it was time to meet this marvel of Batman’s regard, whether Victor was ready or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~Please vote for one of the following in your comment by the end of January 6th!:~~
> 
>   * ~~Sway~~
>   * ~~Swing~~
>   * ~~Slash~~
>   * ~~Strum~~
> 

> 
> Thank you for all your votes! To see what you were voting on, read the end notes for chapter three!


	3. somebody that i used to know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Victor learns Batman's proper name, and meets his Lord Katsuki.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With the votes tallied, sway was the clear winner! I'll give a breakdown for what each was in the endnotes of this chapter.

His eyes adjusted to the light, making out Batman jogging toward the porch of the inn. The doors were sliding panels of wood and paper, all pushed back to either side, showing off a wood-floored interior with a mirror lined wall. A barre ran at waist height along the same wall.

Victor could make out the form of a person standing inside, their body shown in clean lines. Whatever form-fitting clothing they wore seemed appropriate for the setting—it’d been years since Victor had danced ballet himself, but he remembered the workout clothes. Without seeing the details of the man’s face, he noted the clean movement and controlled strength he possessed as he executed a series of turns. His finish with a breathtaking _saut de basque_ gave Victor pause, distracting him from the pain of his leg.

He considered applauding, but held off. He was the intruder here, Batman’s impromptu guest in his Lord’s home.

Batman’s tail was on full display now, twitching and animated as he spoke in a quieter voice with his Lord. Victor made steady progress across the courtyard, lifting a hand for a wave when the man inside looked his way, squinting.

“Minami-kun says he came across you by the Kohaku river?” the man called out, squinting in Victor’s direction.

“Ah, is that his name?” Victor smiled when Minami looked back over his shoulder, tail going ramrod straight behind him. “I’d never have guessed.”

Minami’s Lord stiffened as Victor spoke, stepping onto the deck proper. He wore exercise pants in a dark grey, a dark blue form fitting shirt making for a striking colour contrast. His hair was pulled back into a queue, several tendrils having worked free during his dancing hanging over his forehead and messily framing his face. 

“This is Ivan,” Minami said, turning around and squinting at Victor much like his Lord did. The imitation was blatant and charming in its own way.

“No, it’s not,” his Lord said, and Victor’s niggling sense of familiarity blossomed into recognition. 

His eyes widened and he took another step forward, lifting a hand as if he would reach out to the man where he stood. “Yuuri?” He swallowed, tongue thick in his mouth. “Yuuri, is that you?”

Minami looked between Victor and Yuuri in surprise, tail lashing in confusion. “You know him, my Lord?” he asked.

For a moment, Yuuri stood frozen and staring down at Victor, Minami’s question answered by silence. Then he shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck, expression between a grimace and a rueful smile. “Yes, I do. Minami-kun, this is Victor. Victor, you’ve already met Minami-kun.”

It was too much. The good kind of unbelievable, but too much nonetheless. Victor was torn between happiness and confusion. At least one of those emotions was plainly mirrored on Minami’s face, his eyes growing rounder by the moment. He mouthed _Victor_ while his tail lashed behind him, and the ears on top of his head splayed out to the sides, conflicted.

Victor dismissed Minami’s confusion, eyes on Yuuri. “I can’t believe it’s you.” He shook his head, breathing out in a short lived burst of disbelieving laughter. “Minami was going on about his Lord, and I thought—ah, but that’s it, isn’t it? You’re a kitsune?”

Yuuri blushed, turning away and stalking off toward where a water bottle stood near the mirror wall. He scooped up the water bottle and the glasses resting by it, unfolding them and setting them on the bridge of his nose. “Why were you at the river?”

Victor’s hand fell back to his side, resting against his satchel. “Then again, you don’t have a tail…”

Yuuri looked back over his shoulder, narrowing his eyes behind his glasses. “They don’t make tights with tails in mind,” he said, deadpan. His cheeks coloured right after, as if realising where Victor was looking to arrive at that conclusion. Yuuri spun around, holding his water bottle in front of him like a ward. “You didn’t answer my question!”

“He was saving a kappa, Katsuki-sama,” Minami said, attempting to be helpful.

“He was what?” His water bottle lowered, Yuuri’s eyebrows furrowing in confusion. He looked between Minami and Victor, waiting for someone to answer.

“Pouring water into the kappa’s head bowl.” Minami patted the top of his head to demonstrate what he meant, his ears swiveling forward after. 

“Pouring water into the kappa’s head bowl.” 

The confused repetition would have been endearing if it didn’t paint events in a not-quite accurate light. Victor shifted his weight to take it more off his injured leg, idly hoping kappa didn’t have a particularly infectious bacteria he was allowing time to spread due to Minami’s stumbling across him.

“In all fairness, I caused the kappa to go dry after bowing to them.”

Yuuri’s eyes came back to Victor, and he blinked. “You knew to bow to them?”

“Of course,” he said, smiling up at Yuuri. “After all, you taught me that.”

Yuuri only looked more confused. “I did?”

“At the conference this summer.”

This time Yuuri’s blush was unmistakable. “I—didn’t realise?” He cleared his throat, resolutely tucking his water bottle under one arm. “I’m sorry, I should have known.”

It was Victor’s turn to frown. How in the world did Yuuri remember nothing from the conference? It’d been three days of talks and demonstrations from top practitioners of witchcraft from all over the world, focused on the field they both shared: updating and refining folk remedies and magic charms and exploring their integration with modern medicine. 

He didn’t have a chance to press the question. In his preoccupation, he took a step forward, and the pain in his leg flared anew as the material of his pants pulled at the forming scabs, dislodging them entirely. Victor flinched and bit down on the side of his tongue to hold back a cry, breathing in through his teeth. 

“Victor?” Yuuri’s concern was audible, but even as Victor tried to say he was fine, Minami brought up the whole reason Victor was there in the first place.

“Oh, um, the kappa injured his leg. And an arm, I think. I brought him here because I thought you could help, Katsuki-sama.” Minami’s ears flicked forward and back, his fingers curling into his palms. He was as distraught as Yuuri was confused, flinching back when Yuuri vaulted off the deck and landed on the cobblestones, running to Victor’s side. “I’m sorry for overstepping my bounds,” he said, tail falling low, his ears pressed flat against his skull.

Yuuri didn’t seem to hear him. He crouched down in front of Victor, fingertips pressing gently to either side of the visible lacerations through Victor’s trousers. “How long ago? How deep? Have you had a chance to wash them out?”

The barrage of questions continued, and Victor held up one hand to stave off the flow of Yuuri’s questions. “Wow, okay, if we can slow down? I haven’t had a chance to flush the injury. Minami startled me in the process, then he demanded we come here. He was very insistent,” Victor said, glancing toward the anxious looking kitsune hovering a few meters away. “With the best of intentions.”

Yuuri didn’t look impressed. He looked intent, and he grunted as he pushed up to his feet and settled in at Victor’s side. Unlike with Minami, Yuuri stayed on Victor’s good side, supporting his weight as he marched them toward the deck.

“Minami, ask for boiled water from the kitchen. Bring the bandages too, and one of the big wooden bowls.” Yuuri’s requests were clipped and direct, but they had their desired effect.

Minami all but jumped, standing straighter and saluting Yuuri. “Yes, Katsuki-sama! I’ll be right back!” Then he was off at a run, disappearing around the side of the inn and heading toward wherever the kitchens were located.

Victor breathed out in a huff of laughter, giving Yuuri a sidelong glance. “So forceful,” he said, teasing.

Yuuri grunted, turning them both around so the back of Victor’s thighs were butting up against the deck. “When I need to be,” he said, a late response. “We need to look at those lacerations.”

Yuuri’s hands reached for Victor’s belt buckle just as Victor realised what Yuuri was trying to do. He hurriedly clamped his hands over Yuuri’s, flashing him a smile and hoping the blush heating his face wasn’t too blatant. (He knew it was.) Medical minded as they both were, this was a bit… _much_.

“Let me, please.”

Yuuri pulled his hands back, inclining his head to Victor. His eyes dropped back down to Victor’s injured thigh.

Victor made quick work of his belt, undoing the top of his trousers and starting to work them down over his thighs. He hissed as the material stuck to his injuries, but kept working them down and off, until the whole of his injured thigh was visible. His trousers were bunched at his knees, not needing to go any further down.

Yuuri began examining Victor’s leg as soon as the material was out of the way, careful in how he touched the unmarked skin around the cuts. “They’re shallow, but I don’t like how red they are around the edges.”

Victor stared down at his leg, pressing his hands to either side of the lacerations. “They’re fresh, it’s not surprising they’re a bit inflamed. Unless there’s some property of kappa injuries that makes a recipient prone to infection?”

“There is,” Yuuri said. He frowned, leaning in closer, brushing some of the dried, clotted blood away from the topmost of Victor’s injury. His frown grew deeper. “It’s already starting. See? The spidering up the veins?” 

Victor leaned forward, making out the network of red starting to climb along the pathway of his veins. “Blood infection?”

“If we leave it untreated. I should have everything I need here, but…”

“But?” Victor lifted an eyebrow, thinking of what he had in his satchel, and what would help drive an infection out when it was trying to travel his veins.

“I’ll want you to stay overnight for observation.”

“...” The infection must be serious if Yuuri was telling him he had to stay. Victor respected his opinion enough to know it wasn’t being said lightly, but that didn’t mean he could say yes. “We might have a problem,” he said instead.

Yuuri looked up, meeting Victor’s gaze. “A problem?”

“Is this a dog friendly inn?”

Yuuri blinked. “Yes?”

His sigh of relief was profound. “Oh, good, because I don’t mind staying here overnight, but I’ll be damned if I leave my dog waiting at the gateway for me to come back the whole time.”

“No,” Yuuri said, giving Victor a slow growing half smile, “That wouldn’t do at all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please vote for one of the following by the end of the 11th!
> 
>   * Hot Springs 
>   * Dining Hall 
>   * Staircase 
> 

> 
> The options last chapter each had to do with what kind of activity Victor would find Yuuri engaged in when he arrived! The winner, sway, was dance; swing was for wood-cutting, slash was practicing sword drawing form, and strum was playing the biwa!


End file.
